


I'm Not Afraid

by PlayingChello



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, Fix-It, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, Nobody is Dead, Side Benverly - Freeform, quality stan and richie friendship moments, stan is savage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: “Rich. Ahh, Rich. Hey, Rich, wake up! Hey, yeah, there he is, buddy! Hey, Richie, listen. I think I got him, man. I think I killed It! I did! I think I killed It for real!”The next seconds go by in slow motion. Richie can see the spike coming but he doesn’t have time todoanything about it. Everything is so slow and Richiewantsto do something, he wants to do anything to keep that thing from touching, fromhurting, him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 134





	I'm Not Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> My dear friend @Randompinkbunny on twitter gave me the great prompt of "'Will I stay like this forever?'  
'I dunno but you won't have to face this alone.'" And I ran with it.

“Rich. Ahh, Rich. Hey, Rich, wake up! Hey, yeah, there he is, buddy! Hey, Richie, listen. I think I got him, man. I think I killed It! I did! I think I killed It for real!”

The next seconds go by in slow motion. Richie can see the spike coming but he doesn’t have time to _do_ anything about it. Everything is so slow and Richie _wants_ to do something, he wants to do anything to keep that thing from touching, from _hurting_, him.

Thank god for Stan. A rock comes flying from somewhere behind Richie and it knocks the spike off course. Enough that instead of burying inside of Eddie’s soft middle, it scrapes along his side. Blood sprays from the wound but it’s just surface deep. Eddie falls against Richie and Richie wraps his arms around him, holding on for dear life. They roll, just managing to miss another attack from It, remounting It’s offense against them.

“Come on, Eds, we gotta go.” For just a moment, a fraction of a second, Richie puts his hand to the side of Eddie’s face, the side that isn’t wounded. For one brief moment of weakness, he lets himself marvel in the fact that Eddie is alive in that moment. Then, he pulls them up and starts running.

All of the Losers meet in an offshoot section of cave, big enough for them but small enough that It’s current form can’t reach them. For now. Richie helps Eddie to sit down before flinging himself at Stan. “You saved him,” he whispered, squeezing his friend tight, “Thank you.”

Stan offers Richie one squeeze in return before pulling back, “We have bigger problems right now, Richie.”

Eddie is speaking and Richie turns to give him his attention. “I almost killed him. The leper. My hands were on his throat. I could feel him choking. I made him small.”

And suddenly it was like everything made sense. They had a plan, all they had to do was get Pennywise back to the tunnel they came in through, make It chase them, make It small. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit. They all start running, but It manages to block them off.

It takes Mike to give them plan B. To realise there’s more than one way to make someone small. In a brilliant moment of Losers standing tall, they beat back the threat with the very types of words that always beat each of them down. They’ve survived torment from Bowers’ gang, they lived their lives for 27 years in the real world. And together, the seven of them, they are invincible.

But the time they have It’s heart in their hands, they all feel larger than life. Together, all of them, squeeze their hands and send It back to whatever Hell It came from. And just like that, the horror is over. Or… they think it is. Because now there’s a new horror, a very real and present horror. The whole world feels like it shudders and dust and chucks of stone fall from above them. Richie reaches to his side a grabs Eddie’s wrist before booking off after the others.

All of them run on some high fueled by the last vestiges of fear and the incredible victory. Richie barks out an insane laugh as they sprint, unbelieving of how this has all been possible. They wind through rock tunnels, climb through that fissure in the world, make their way back through the decrepit Neibolt house.

All seven of them stop short once their feet hit the pavement of the street. Richie’s hand is still grasped tight around Eddie’s wrist and he feels Stan put a hand on his shoulder. They all watch as, moments later, the whole house is sucked into the ground.

“It’s over.” Bill’s voice, strong and stutter free, brings Richie’s attention away from what used to be the source of all of his nightmares.

Without words, they look at one another and make a silent agreement. The move as one unit, walking in silence. Occasionally, someone will reach out for someone else, make a physical connection. Richie never lets go of Eddie’s wrist, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it’s the desire for comfort, maybe it’s something else. It doesn’t really matter right then.

When they reach the quarry, they are again wordless as they take off shoes and strip off jackets. One by one, they take the familiar plunge off the cliff into the dirty water. Just like old times. Richie jumps before Eddie, finally releasing his hold to do so. Once in the water, he takes his glasses off and tries to clean the blood from them. Eddie’s blood. Only the splash as Eddie falls into the water nearby calms the pounding in his heart at that though. If Stan hadn’t…

Eddie could have died.

Richie scrubs at his glasses again before trying to slam them on his face, but in the process, he drops them into the water. The murky water combined with his loss of clear vision makes it impossible to find them himself. He sees a blurry shape in front of him. By the colours, it looks like it might be Eddie.

“The fuck are you doing, Richie, you’re gonna catch a staph infection.” Yup, that’s Eddie alright. Too bad he can’t see.

He looks around with a wry smile, “Dropped my glasses, can’t see. Can one of you nameless blobs help me out here?” He hears Bev snort in laughter from somewhere behind him and the whole group seems to move into action to look for the dropped glasses.

Well, everyone except for the Eddie blob in front of him. That one doesn’t move. And he can’t see well enough to be able to see the posture or the expression in his face. It unnerves him. He’s so used to knowing all of Eddie’s ins and outs, the little meanings to all of his changes in posture.

“Hey, Richie?” Eddie’s voice is soft and close and when Richie looks toward his form, he’s slightly clearer because he’s so much closer now. He can almost make out the features of his face, but not the details. God he’s blind.

“Yeah, Eds?”

There’s a pause, and Richie has to wonder what’s going through Eddie’s mind in that moment. “Why are you crying?”

What? Crying? He lifts his hand to his face but since it’s already wet, it doesn’t help. Richie hadn’t even realised he _had_ been crying. So how could he possibly answer the question.

“I don’t know.”

“Richie! Found them!” Bev’s voice is behind him, so he turns toward it. Hands, cold from the water press the familiar shape of his glasses into his hand and he finally gets them back on his face where they belong. The shapes of his friends come back into sharp focus.

“Ah, it’s just you losers.” That earns him some smiles and a few chuckles. Better than nothing, he supposes. These fuckers never laughed at his jokes anyway. He sees the way Bev and Ben are clinging to one another and a flash of jealousy lances through him, straight to his core. Not because he’s not happy for them, because he is, but because he longs for that easy love, they way they cling to one another. “Well, nice to see that finally happened. You leaving your shit husband now?”

Bev looks terrified for one fraction of a second. For that one barely there moment, her face darkens and it’s worse than any other fear she’s ever shown them before, worse than facing killer clowns. But then it’s gone, and she looks at Ben and… the love and bravery on her face wipes away any doubt anyone could have. That pang of jealousy is back, but it’s background now, moreso, he’s just happy for his friends.

A hand on his shoulder makes him turn. Stan is there, pulling him a bit away from the group. For a moment, Richie lets himself be weak. “Stan, am I always going to be like this? Afraid? Will I be afraid forever?”

Stan gives him a sad look, “I don’t know. But you don’t have to face it alone.” Then, after a short pause, his expression morphs. “Richie, if you aren’t the next one to do something about the whole 27 years of repressed romantic feelings I will through you into the Neibolt house pit until you stop being so goddamn stupid.” Stan smiles at him with that barely there smile he’s perfected over the years. A smile Richie recognises as one of pure friendship and support.

Still, he can’t help the joke that bubbles up, “What? I thought Mrs. K died. Too bad that ship sailed.” Stan gives him the biggest eye roll and pushes him into the water.

The water is a murky green and Richie isn’t entirely sure which way is up. He’s sure if he lets himself, he’d float to the surface but… for some reason he feels content just floundering in the chill water. He spins in circles, trying to feel for the dirt underneath him or break through the surface above him but he just spins in space. Until a hand clutches at his shirt and he feels himself being pulled backwards.

The surface breaks and suddenly Richie can breathe. He drags in a deep breath, and another one, and then opens his eyes. “Eddie.”

“Richie, you’re gonna get the flu or pneumonia or one of the other thousands of bacteria that live in this disgusting water. Oh my _god_ why did we do this this place is _filthy_ this is not how we clean ourselves after all of that, my fucking cheek is going to be infected and _this_-” Eddie motions to his side, to the gash from the spider spike.

And it’s then that Richie can’t stand it anymore. He can’t stand hiding and lying and pretending. He surges forward, everything is on autopilot. His hands move up, one flattens on the side of Eddie’s neck, the other on his cheek, right over his bandage. And he pulls. He kisses him with such ferocity, such passion. And for a moment, everything is right. For just that second, Eddie isn’t married to someone just like his mother, Richie isn’t a lonely, closeted comedian that can’t even write his own material, It never existed, and everyone is safe and happy and _right_.

Then Eddie pulls away and the illusion shatters. “Goddamnit, Richie, what did I _just_ say? We’re gonna get mono!” And for some reason, that makes Richie laugh. Big and bellowing and maniacal. Because Eddie didn’t say he’s not gay, he didn’t say Richie is gross, he didn’t even say he’s married. He just had a very _Eddie_ reaction. Going on about diseases.

“That’s the kissing disease, right? I think I’ll be ok with that if I get it from you.” It’s bold. It’s way more open than Richie has ever been in his _life_. But it feels good.

Eddie starts hitting him, not with any real strength, not with any real power. He’s doing the same kind of squabbling they used to when they were kids. He even manages to push Richie’s glasses off his face (_again_). “Well, now I can’t see you again.”

“Maybe you should get some fucking contacts, then, Trashmouth.”

Richie grins, “But you said my glasses look good.”

“When did I eve-” Eddie stops short and once again, Richie mourns that he can’t see properly. He starts moving his foot around carefully, feeling for his glasses. “We were like… ten!”

“But I never forgot.” Finally, his toe touches his glasses. He leans down, picking them up once more. When he gets them back on his face, he is greeted by Eddie looking positively shell-shocked. It’s honestly stunning to have been able to create that look on Eddie’s face. “Eddie, you might want to shut your mouth before a fly thinks it looks like home.” Richie’s grin only grows when Eddie does exactly that. There’s a pop as his lips slap shut.

God he wants to kiss him again.

“Now that you’ve all admitted you’re all idiots, can we _please_ go take real showers?” Stan complains.

Eddie raises his hand, “Seconded!”

Richie waggles his eyebrows at Eddie, “Wanna share?”

Eddie pushes his shoulder, but doesn’t say no and doesn’t mention that wife he has either. Richie counts that as a win.

“Calm down, White Boy. Save it for when I don’t have to watch.”

Richie laughs as he turns toward Mike and flicks some dirty quarry water in his direction. This begins a full scale splash fight with all seven of them mounting attacks on each other with the green water. The fight continues until they are all even more soaking wet and unable to breathe from laughter.

Eventually, they climb out of the water and wring the worst of their clothes out before walking as a group back to the hotel. Richie hangs toward the back of the group, smiling to himself in his contentment. But nothing could prepare him for the way Eddie drops back to fall in stride with him and, without comment, slides his hand into Richie’s.

Yeah, this is how things should be.

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, the go back to the hotel and Eddie tells Richie he's gonna get a divorce and they kiss and maybe even share that shower. Yay, happy gays.
> 
> Anyway, I have a [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/playingchello).


End file.
